


Sugar, You

by Showtime (Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson)



Category: Chicago Blackhawks - Fandom, Hockey RPF
Genre: F/M, Genderfluid Character, Hockey Rivalry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 13:29:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5418824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson/pseuds/Showtime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kris Quill may just be one of the best players that the Nashville Predators have ever hired. Training since she was 18, she made quick work of the minor leagues and was hired at just 19.</p><p>But, Kris has a secret that no one knows, at least, so she thinks, until Patrick Kane figures it out.</p><p>Can Kris keep her secret underwraps, now that the problematic Blackhawk knows? Or will she have to lose her career?</p><p>And just what does Patrick have in mind with her?</p><p>Falling deeper into the rabbit hole that is the lie of her gender, can Kris keep ahold of her hockey stick?</p><p>And just what the hell is happening with these feelings things?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sugar, You

The lungs in their chest were struggling to get the right amount of oxygen into them, bound tight by the fabric across their chest. Their forehead were sweating and their skin was hot, much hotter than that of their team mates. The ice under their face where they had gone skidding across was freezing, and Kris wasn’t sure if they could tug their face up from where it had landed.

 _Fucking Toews_.

Gritting their teeth, Kris stumbled to their feet on the ice, hissing at a swiping stick from Panarin before turning, joining in the race. Kane was there, aiming for the goal and Kris growled in their head.

_Don’t you even think about extending your point streak to 30 tonight, boy._

Rushing forward, Kris managed to skid in front of him, scooping the puck away and firing it off to their team mate not too far away, racing away, smirking under their helmet at the yell Kane gave out.

There was only a few seconds left and they were drawn 2-2 with the Hawks. The Predators wouldn’t lose tonight, not if Kris had anything to do with it.

They broke free of Toews’ defence, skated around Panarin and captured the puck as it was thrown to them and they shot – only to scream in celebration when the red light flashed, just before the claxon. _Gold on the Ceiling_ rang out around the United Centre and Kris threw themselves into the arms of their teammates’ laughing with them. Glancing back, the look Kane was giving them made a laugh erupt from their throat, and the rest of the Predators gave him dirty looks before they all skated off to the locker room to change.

Kris managed to quickly tug their skates off and hang them up before grabbing their bag and rushing for the showers. They needed the one cubicle that was locked off from the rest; their whole career depended on it. Dashing in, it banged close behind them and Kris relaxed a moment before they started stripping off.

Tugging the tight binders over her head, her chest relaxed, and she could breathe once more. Her breasts dropped and a soft groan escaped her throat. Looking down, brown and blue decorated her soft skin, and the sight caused a scowl to cross her face. That would mean when she next went out with her girlfriends, she’d have to use up a bunch of foundation – not because they didn’t know, but because she couldn’t risk people guessing that she was Kris Quill, one of the best players that the Predators had hired.

Pulling a face, she scrubbed her face and body clean quickly before turning the stream of water off. Drying, she struggled into her new, fresh binders, and chucked the others in her bag. Taking a side shot photo on her phone, she made sure her chest was completely flat before she dressed. A short Predators shirt, a pair of jeans, socks, and her trainers before she headed back outside. She moved to her cubicle, packing her skates away before glancing at Arvidsson. His eyes were staring at her, rather intently, and raw fear churned in her stomach. Clearing her throat, Kris turned back to her bag.

“What’s wrong, Arvidsson? Cat got your tongue? Got a thing for guys?”

He scowled and disappeared to the showers, causing Kris to close her eyes, resting her head on the wall in front of her momentarily. Shooting upright almost immediately, she grabbed her bag, chucked it on her back, grabbed her water bottle and left.

Stalking through the dark towards where their bus was parked, Kris sucked down about half of her water bottle before she chucked her bag into the hold. Her travel bag had been left on the bus when they got to the Centre that morning.

Closing her eyes, relishing in the dark of the night, she decided on an old habit, and headed towards the back of the Centre, already fishing her pack of cigarettes out of her pocket. Lighting up before she was even at the smoking point, she looked left and right before shifting to adjust her breasts under her binders, making sure her chest was as flat as she could get it.

“QUILL!”

Kris flew around, staring at Patrick Kane storming towards her.

 _Shit_.

“What do you want, Kane?” She made sure to thicken her voice, standing tall. “Pissed off that you got cut off from making history again?”

“You’re a fucking twat.”

“Ohhhh, someone is a sore loser.”

Kris found herself shoved against the wall and she scowled, spitting in the other’s face. “Get the fuck off of me, Kane.”

“I know your fucking secret.”

“I have nothing to hide.”

“What about the fact that,” his hand slammed against her crotch and her eyes widened. “You’re a girl.”

She kicked him, hard, in the shin and spat at his feet. “You ever touch me like that again without my permission and I will drop kick you so hard, you’ll end up back in Sweden in the minor leagues.”

“Does your team know?”

“Is it any of your business?”

Kane folded his arms across his chest, eyebrow raised.

“You’re awfully defensive...”

“For what? A girl? Kane, I could kick your around that ice rink for a whole twenty minute period, take a 5 minutes breather and do it all over again. If you dare tell anyone, I swear to God, I will end your career.”

“With what?”

“I’m sure I can find _something_. We’re the same as each other. I’m the Kane of the Predators, and you’re the Quill of the Blackhawks. I am more than sure with a simple rumour I could destroy you.”

Patrick’s eyes narrowed and he took a step forward, forcing Kris against the wall once more.

She noticed how bright his eyes were, just how... _attractive_ he was when he was this angry.

 _Get your fucking act together, Quill_.

Or at least, she tried, before his lips were on her’s, and her train of thought crashed. She forgot how to breathe, but her arms bent and wrapped around his back, fists curling in his shirt. They were as close to each other as they could be, and his knee gently bent between her legs. Slipping her legs apart, she pulled back, noticing how wide his pupils were.

And the thing poking her stomach wasn’t a hockey stick.

“My hotel?”

“Your hotel.”


End file.
